


Meteor Rain

by hiikigane



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Underage Drinking, full of cliches and extremely predictable, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 20:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiikigane/pseuds/hiikigane
Summary: New town, new life, new...boyfriend? Credence works up the courage to ask out the senior he has admired from afar for the past two months and fluff abounds.Aka self-indulgent, cliche-filled high school AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love high school AUs too much. Title is based on a song i used to listen to as a kid, 流星雨 (Meteor Rain) even though the meteor shower hardly features in the story. My bad. I'm on a nostalgia kick.

                       “What do you think?”

                        Credence looks from the bright orange posterboard crammed with details about the vampire bat’s physiognomy, diet, mating cycles, life expectancy and assorted information to Newt’s flushed, expectant face and bites back a laugh. “I don’t think that’s what your boss had in mind when she asked you to make posters with vampire trivia to promote vampire-themed literature.”

                        “But vampire bats have a _huge_ influence on vampires in popular culture! The bats themselves might be named after the monster, but people should understand the bats themselves in order to better appreciate the link between the mythological monster and the creature. The vampire bat is the only species of bat that subsists on blood alone, and they have been known to feed from humans, though they don’t kill or even transform humans by drinking from them, and—“

                        “I just meant she might be looking for information related to the vampires, rather than the animal. You know, the kind that appear in the books you’re supposed to be promoting?”

                        Newt rolls his eyes. “How can those be any more interesting than information about the actual animal? I flipped through one of the books on the recommended list, and the vampires are essentially really pretty humans with super-strength and super-speed. Blood-drinking isn’t even that big a deal to them. How do these creatures even get classified as vampires?”

                        “I’m not getting into a debate about the merits of modern vampire literature. I’ve never actually read those books, after all.”

                        “Yes, because you’re too busy making googly eyes at Percival Graves to read anything… I’ve never seen a creature pine for a mate like this. Most of them would have at least demonstrated their interest, especially in the face of competition from other creatures…”

                        “Oh, shut up.” Credence smacks Newt’s arm, but there isn’t any real malice in his words. Newt’s obsession with animals of all kinds might be off-putting to most—Credence had had to re-type their entire report with less than an half an hour to the deadline when it turned out one of Newt’s pets had spewed some kind of brown juice all over the paper, rendering most of the words illegible— but he’s got a good heart. He’s still kind to humans, even though he spent most of his childhood being mocked for his interests. Credence finds it inspiring that Newt is so comfortable with expressing his passions, and considers himself lucky to have made friends with Newt on the very first day he transferred to this new school.

                        All in all, things were looking a lot better than they were two months ago. He’d been nervous about being transferred to another foster family despite spending the past few years gingerly tiptoeing around the many rules set by his previous foster mother, trying not to draw attention to himself. That had been difficult because all the other children she housed were much younger than him, so he was expected to take care of them (a part of him often wondered why that job fell to him when the state was paying _her_ to look after everyone, but he’d never had the guts to say it to her face). They had lived in a small town, which didn’t help because of the gossip that buzzed around their small, battered house like flies hovering over a not-so-juicy piece of meat—a widowed lady who consciously isolated herself from the larger community, yet surrounded herself with a bunch of foster children who also hardly ever came out of the house except to attend school and church. It had been a lonely time. But then news of the transfer came, and before he had time to process how he felt about it, he was on a bus to a comparatively larger town at least three hours away, living with a much nicer family. They had a six-year-old daughter, Modesty, but unlike the children in his previous home, she was sweet and saw him as an older brother rather than another enforcer of rules. He found that he didn’t mind being dragged to her room to watch her put on skits with her stuffed toys, featuring talking animals and wizards.

                        Of course, there was school, too. He had always seen it as a chance to escape from the confines of the house, but the incentives here were much better. There was Newt, of course, but there was also Percival Graves, known to most as Graves. Being a freshman, he didn’t share any classes with Graves, a senior, but he occasionally caught sight of Graves walking down the hallway, looking imposing and unapproachable. None of the usual high school topics like parties, games or girls seemed to interest him. He had a small circle of friends that were in the debate team with him, and he seemed particularly close to one girl, who had coppery skin and blond hair. But Newt had assured him that their relationship was purely platonic. “He and Seraphina are childhood friends, and I have a theory that they joined debate for a chance to argue with each other in public.” The few times he had seen Seraphina and Graves in the cafeteria, they had been engaged in a heated conversation, though at least they didn’t look like they were about to kill each other. Credence was more surprised that Newt knew all these details.

                        “Knowing the residents of an alien territory, taking notes on their habits and forging alliances with individuals with common goals is essential for survival,” Newt had informed him.

                        For once, the wilderness analogy actually worked. High school was turning out to be every bit a course in survival as life with his previous foster mother had been. Teenagers were a particularly cruel species; once they spotted weakness, they would pounce and wear down your resistance with a cocktail of snide verbal jabs, intimidation and the occasional punch. Fortunately, Credence knew enough about blending in—or as Newt would have said, camouflage—not to present himself as a target. Newt’s eccentricity might have made him an easy target, but bullies tended to go after people who appeared visibly bothered by their actions, and Newt was self-assured enough to ignore them. It also helped that his older brother, Theseus, was uber-protective of Newt and had made use of his status as a star player on the basketball team to get anyone who might bother Newt to back off. “More specifically, he said I had a creature whose bite causes their bodies to emit pheromones that repel members of the opposite sex, and if any of them gave me any trouble, he’d let it loose in the changing rooms.”

                        “Your brother seems like a great guy,” Credence had said.

                        “He is.”

                        Credence is shaken out of his thoughts by an orange blur sweeping across his field of vision. “Hey, Credence. You there?” Newt is waving the posterboard in front of his face.

                        “Oh… Uh, what?”

                        “I was asking if you really think I’ll have to redo the entire vampire thing. I can’t afford to be fired, and I’ve already got two strikes in my boss’s book. Just because I missed shelving duty to drive a sick animal to the vet…”

                        “Uh, I really think you need to redo it. Focus more on the vampires. Bring up the bats as familiars if you really want to include them.” Newt’s face falls, and Credence sighs. “Tell you what, I’ll grab some of those modern vampire books from the library so we can see what sort of comparisons we need to make. We’ll work on it together. Just something to keep your boss happy.”

                        Newt beams. “Thank you, Credence! You’re a star!”

* * *

 

                        True to his word, Credence heads to the library after class. He wants to look for a job, anything that allows him to earn a little money, but he promised to help Newt, who has already left for work, determined to stay in his boss’s good books. Newt had been right about one thing. The vampires in these books are nothing like the scary, undead blood drinkers of the past. The very first book on Newt’s list featured a good-looking male model staring intensely into the eyes of an equally good-looking female model on the cover, a muscular arm wrapped around her waist. The only thing remotely vampirish about him was his slightly larger than normal canine teeth. Credence skims the summary, imagines the talking animals and wizards in Modesty’s stories facing off against these creatures and stifles a snort.

                        “Enjoying the story?”

                        Credence looks up and feels the blood drain from his face. Percival Graves is leaning against the shelf, smiling at him in amusement. God, that smile. Vampires can’t hold a candle to Percival Graves.

                        “It’s not for me,” he stammers. “It’s for my… my…” Suddenly, he can’t remember the name of his friend. “I don’t read… It’s not…”

                        “Hey, relax,” Graves says. He still looks amused. “I’m not judging. There’s no rule that says you can’t enjoy these books. Expanding your horizons and all that.”

                        Credence finally manages to gather his thoughts into a coherent form. “It’s not for me. My friend, Newt, needs some of these books for a project.”

                        “Newt?” Graves raises his eyebrows. “Not Theseus Scamander’s little brother?”

                        “That’s him.” Credence can hardly believe he’s talking to Graves in the library. Of course, the circumstances of their meeting could have been better, but still. He never thought Graves would be the one to initiate a conversation.

                        “I’ll let you in on a secret, Vampire Lit Boy,” Graves suddenly says. He’s a little taller, so he has to lean down to whisper the words into Credence’s ear. Credence can feel his skin tingling where Graves’ breath hits him. “I love those books about talking animals and pixies. They’re formulaic and predictable, but there’s something really comforting about a world where all these different species get along with each other. It’s not always so simple in the real world.”

                        “My sister loves those books too,” Credence says, and promptly wants to kick himself. He just compared Graves’ taste in books to a six-year-old.

                        “You have a sister?”

                        “Step-sister,” he mutters, unsure if that’s even the correct term to describe Modesty, but too flustered to think it through. 

                        “Well, I read those stories to my sister. I came here to borrow a few more books, and to get some research material for the upcoming debate competition.” Graves pats a small pile of books Credence hadn’t even noticed. Peeking out from between thick books with intimidating titles like _Failed States and Institutional Decay_ and _Legitimacy and the use of armed force: stability missions in the post-Cold War era_ are thin paperbacks whose covers are adorned with colourful pictures featuring fairies dancing around toadstools. The contrast makes him smile.

                        “You wanna pick out a few for your sister?”

                        Credence nods. He’d never thought of reading to Modesty before, but it seems like a good way of bonding with her. _And to spend more time with Graves,_ his traitorous brain chimes in.

                        Graves leads him to the kiddie section (why does a high school library even _have_ a kiddie section?) and, with an air of having done this many times before, picks out a few books. “These are the ones my sister really likes,” he informs Credence. “You might have trouble getting her to give them back so you can return them, though.”

                        When Graves makes to pass the books to Credence, their fingers brush, and he swears he feels a jolt of electricity run through his body. The electricity seems to have a purging effect, wiping his entire brain blank. Dimly, he registers Graves saying something, and the words take a while to pass through the fog that seems to have settled over his mind. “…Leaving to meet Sera…”

                        “Wait!” Suddenly, his brain is functioning again. Graves is leaving, and Credence doesn’t want him to go. _Say something, anything, to stop him!_ The words are out of his mouth before he can filter them, and in retrospect, they were probably hovering close to the surface, straining at the chains his conscious mind had clapped on them. “Do you want to hang out sometime? Like, go to a movie or something?”

                        An awkward silence descends. Credence’s right hand flies to his mouth, as though trying to force the words back inside. _Crap! That was too direct! Why would he agree when he doesn’t know anything about you, apart from thinking you like vampire stories? He might not even like guys! He’ll think you’re a freak! If this gets out, you can forget about blending in! But is he the sort of person to spread rumours? Maybe you can persuade him to keep it a secret? What sort of bribe would work? Kids like candy, teenagers like…sexual favours? Ugh, why did you have to think about that?_

                        “I have a better idea.”

                        Graves’ voice interrupts the not-unpleasant fantasy that is starting to take root in his brain. Credence slowly raises his eyes to meet Graves. Fortunately, Graves doesn’t look disgusted at being propositioned so abruptly. His mouth is still curved up in that confident smile. “Do you like stargazing?”

                        Credence nods vigorously. Truthfully, he doesn’t know anything about the stars or the planets beyond learning that all of it the result of God’s creation—a product of his previous foster mother’s religious outlook on life—but he would have agreed to anything Graves asked of him.

                        “There’s a meteor shower happening soon. I was going to ask Theseus if he wanted to drive out of town to watch it with me, but since you asked…maybe you can come too. It’s a lot of waiting around in the cold, but the moment the shower starts is truly magical. You’re a freshman, right?”

                        “Yes.” Credence is going to _kill_ Newt for not mentioning that his older brother is friends with Percival Graves.

                        “So you can’t drive yet.”

                        “No.” Fourteen is a difficult age—not old enough to drive, just barely old enough to hold down a minimum-wage job with bosses who don’t mind scheduling around school hours and in his case, much too old for anyone to adopt him. People usually look for younger children, and watching some of the children leave his old home for what he assumes is a loving family used to make him unbearably jealous.

                        “I can pick you up from Theseus’s house next Tuesday. Or your house, if you prefer.”

                        “Theseus’s house would be good.” While his new foster parents are pretty relaxed about most things, Credence isn’t sure where staying out all night with a guy falls on their list of acceptable activities. He can always tell them he’s staying over at Newt’s. They know Newt, and Newt owes him.

                        “Can I get your number?”

                        “ _Huh_?” So much for his worries about inappropriate propositioning. Graves is asking for his _number_ , and they’ve literally just met today.

                        “Just in case. I’m not going to send you stupid snaps or tag you in dumb memes unless you want me to.”

                        Credence has no idea what Graves is talking about, but smiles and nods like he understands. He reaches for the phone Graves holds out to him and fumblingly keys in his name and number. His jacket pocket vibrates and when he checks the screen of his Palaeozoic-era phone, there is a missed call from a new number.  _I have Percival Graves’ phone number_ , he screams internally. This is a huge step up from sneaking glances at him in the hallway or cafeteria.

                        Graves’ phone starts ringing, and he hurriedly jabs at it. “I need to get going. Remember, next Tuesday, okay?” Before Credence can say anything, Graves has already turned away and is striding towards the exit.


	2. Chapter 2

                         Newt looks slightly disappointed as Credence tosses the lone vampire book onto his cluttered table, nearly knocking over a bottle of pet food. “You could have picked up more books.”

                        “You could have mentioned that your brother is friends with Percival Graves!”

                        “What difference would that have made?”

                        Credence opens his mouth to begin his tirade, then snaps it shut. What difference _would_ it have made? Before today, he has always been content to look at Graves from afar. He would never have thought of asking Newt to play matchmaker. Besides, it’s not Newt that knows Graves, it’s Theseus, whom he hardly knows. Theseus is never around when he goes over to their house. “I managed to talk to Graves today.”

                        Newt stops typing away at his laptop and straightens up. “Do tell.”

                        “I met him in the library, my brain froze up and I ended up asking him out.” Something that has been niggling at the back of his mind since he arranged the date with Graves makes itself known. “Except it’s not really a date. Your older brother will be coming too.”

                        “ _What_?”

                        Credence tells him what he remembers of their conversation, leaving out the parts about how Graves’ touch seemed to sharpen his senses, making him hyperaware of the rustling and mumbling of the other occupants in the library, of the dust motes swirling in the air, of his heart thumping away in his chest.

                        “So he asked you to join him and Theseus?”

                        “He said he was going to ask Theseus to watch it with him, but I could come too if I wanted. I don’t know if he’s asked your brother yet.” Something else clicks. “Maybe he’s interested in your brother, and I’d just be in the way if I went along but he didn’t know how to turn me down.”

                        Newt shakes his head firmly. “Oh, Theseus is definitely not interested in Graves. He has a crush on this other senior. She’s blond and typically attractive in a way that appeals to teenage boys, but she’s already got someone. He pines after her, but he’s too much of a gentleman to try and steal her away. Anyway, I’ll get Theseus to cancel the invitation closer to the date. Can’t afford to be a third wheel.”

                        Credence buries his head in his hands. “Graves will probably cancel once he finds out it’s just the two of us.”

                        “But what if he doesn’t?” There is a sudden fierceness to Newt’s voice that causes Credence to look up. “Do you know that mating underwater is much harder than mating on land because of factors like currents? Whales also lack the appendages to hold the other party in place, so a male grey whale may prop up a female grey whale so it can mate with another male. We’re not underwater, but even land-based species require what is commonly known as a ‘wingman’, so this is the role I have appointed for myself to…”

                        “When did whales come into this?” Newt sometimes goes off on a tangent, trying to draw parallels between animals and humans. It’s an interesting quirk, but trying to direct Newt’s attention back to the subject at hand can be very difficult, especially when it’s something as important as this. “I was talking about Graves not wanting to spend time alone with me…”

                        “And I was saying that he _will_. I used the whale analogy to show that I am willing to be the male whale that props you up. Graves already demonstrated interest in you by initiating conversation and asking you out. Though I guess Theseus counts as a fourth party in this mating ritual, I’m sure he’d be willing to help me prop you up.”

                        “I’m not mating with Graves,” Credence sputters.

                        Newt’s green eyes dance with humour. “That’s what she said.”

                        Credence snatches a pillow from Newt’s bed and throws it at his friend.

* * *

                        The rest of the week passes uneventfully. Newt’s reworked vampire trivia posters are approved by his boss and he stows the old ones in his closet, muttering darkly about how no one appreciates the beauty of vampire bats. Modesty enjoys the stories recommended by Graves, but Credence has to put his foot down when she asks him to read her a book that features magic and monsters but seems like a thinly veiled cover for erotica. His phone remains blessedly (?) quiet, so either Graves has decided that he doesn’t mind hanging out alone with Credence, or the old thing has finally given out. He gets permission to spend Tuesday night with Newt, and tries to look up information about meteor showers so he doesn’t come across as a complete idiot. The whole time, he feels like he has swallowed Newt’s butterfly collection.

                        Finally, on Monday evening, Credence gets a text message from Graves asking him if he still wants to be picked up from Theseus’s house because Theseus suddenly has a test he absolutely needs to study for. Credence is so unused to texting—he’s never owned a phone before moving here, and Newt prefers to call rather than text—that he accidentally forwards the message to his new foster mother, Diane, and gets the shock of his life when she asks him why he plans to be picked up from Newt’s place if he’s planning to stay over. For a terrible moment, it’s like being back in his old home, waiting on tenterhooks for judgment to be passed for messing something up. But then she just sighs and asks him not to lie, and not to get caught doing anything stupid. It’s such a relaxed, hands-off attitude that he starts feeling guilty for lying and ends up confessing part of—but not the whole—story. Fortunately, she’s okay with him hanging out with Graves, though that might be because he presented Graves as a friend of Newt and Theseus. He wonders if she realises that he intends to spend time alone with Graves, but she doesn’t say anything about that, so he doesn’t push it. He only remembers that he hasn’t replied the message much later. He spends a good deal of time typing out a message saying that if it’s okay with Graves, he would like to be picked up from his house instead, and double and triple-checks his address and the number in the recipient box before sending it off.

* * *

 

                        “Did you and Newt have a fight?” is what Graves says in lieu of a greeting when he pulls up outside Credence’s house at nine p.m. on Tuesday night. Credence gives an awkward wave to Diane, who is watching from the window (he guesses that as relaxed as she is, she wants to make sure that he’s really being picked up by Graves and not some other stranger) and slides into the front seat, clutching a winter coat. Graves had mentioned there would be a lot of waiting around in the cold, and the websites had concurred. They had also said no special equipment was needed, so the coat was the only thing he had brought along.

                        “Why would you think that?” Credence has to force the words out, around the butterflies that seem to have migrated north to settle at the base of his throat. Graves looks dashingly handsome in a plain white collared shirt, a dark blue scarf and long black coat with hints of white at the sleeves thrown over his lap. It takes Credence another few seconds to realise that Graves has probably moved his clothes off the front seat, and he doesn’t want to inconvenience him. “Um, I can move to the back if you want to put your things in the front…”

                        “Nah, stay here. If you sit in the back it makes me feel like a chauffeur.”

                        They drive in silence for what is probably just a few minutes, but feels like an eternity to Credence. “So, did you and Newt have a fight?”

                        “Again, why would you think that?” Awkward silence is hard to bear. Talking to Graves is equally hard. How will he survive the night?

                        “I just wondered why you asked to be picked up from your house instead of his.”

                        “Oh.” Credence isn’t going to get into the whole lying thing. Newt had been perfectly okay with the change in plans, and even passed on Theseus’s well-wishes. “I was going to stay over but we decided to do that another time.”

                        “I see.” Graves drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “We’ll be driving out of town. There’s a cliff overlooking the ocean off the highway, and it offers a great view of the sky. It’s about an hour away.”

                        “Great,” Credence mumbles. In the silence that falls again, he realises how terrible a date he is. Asking Graves out, yet giving one-word answers to his questions makes it seem like he isn’t interested at all. He quickly casts around for a topic of conversation. “Um. Do you know Theseus very well?”

                        “Quite. We sometimes play basketball together, and he listens to some of my debate points. He’s not a typical jock. He’s got both brains and brawn, and he cares for Newt a lot. It’s a rare combination.”

                        It suddenly occurs to Credence that Theseus may not be interested in Graves, but that doesn’t mean Graves isn’t interested in Theseus. Did he just get caught up in a love triangle? How can he find out more without sounding like he’s prying, or jealous? “I can see how much Theseus cares for Newt too. I’ve never met him, but he seems like a great person.” That much is the truth.

                        “You’ve never met him?” Graves’ thick eyebrows draw together. “How can you not have?”

                        “I’m new to town, and he’s never around when I go over to Newt’s house…”

                        “Sounds like Theseus. His social calendar’s packed. Basketball practice, hanging out with the team, visiting colleges, mooning over Queenie… it’s a wonder he manages to get any work done.”

                        “Who’s Queenie?”

                        “A senior Theseus is crazy for.” Credence strains to place the tone with which Graves delivered this statement, and failing that, scrutinises his face, but Graves’ expression is perfectly neutral and impenetrable. “She’s already got a boyfriend, Jacob. They’re quite serious.”

                        “That’s nice,” Credence says lamely. “But Theseus is such a nice person, I’m sure he has plenty of suitors to choose from…”

                        “Of course he does. Lots of girls in the debate team who know that he and I are friends try to squeeze me for information about him all the time. But I’m not cut out to be a matchmaker.”

                        _Is it because you like him too?_

He isn’t brave enough to pursue this line of thought. Damn, Theseus may have excused himself from the outing, but his absence makes him an even more tangible presence, weighing on Credence’s mind and causing him to doubt everything about what tonight means to Graves. Does Graves think he’s doing a good deed by spending time with Theseus’s younger brother’s weird friend? Is Graves hoping to win Theseus over by being kind to people he cares about (even though Theseus obviously doesn’t care for Credence in the same way he does for Newt)? What if Newt and Theseus are propping Credence up like the good wingmen whales they’re supposed to be, but Graves isn’t interested at all? What do whales do when the other party isn’t reciprocating? Why is he thinking about everything in terms of animal mating habits?

                        “Are we really going to spend the night talking about Theseus Scamander?” Once again, Graves’ voice cuts through the babble of his thoughts. “Listen, as much as I like the guy, I’d much rather learn more about you.”

                        Credence blinks at him for a few seconds. His brain is about to go into overdrive, analysing the nuances of that statement (does Graves actually want to know about Credence, or is he just being polite?) when he suddenly remembers a day in the not-so-distant past spent at Newt’s house. Newt had been reading aloud from a book about animals, and Credence had only been half-listening, but he remembered something about instincts. Perhaps he should just follow his instincts and see where it leads him. What was the worst that could happen? Graves rejects him, he broods for a while, gets over it. Animals don’t spend a lot of time pining after an uninterested mate. They jump back into the game and continue searching.

                        God, spending all that time with Newt has completely screwed with his world view.

                        “I liked reading the fairytales to my sister. I didn’t really get to read any as a kid, so it was kind of interesting to see what those books are like.”

                        “What _did_ you do as a child, then?”

                        A completely innocent question by most standards, but one that Credence has always found hard to answer. “I don’t know who my real parents are. I spent about six years in an orphanage before being transferred to a foster home and I’ve been moved a few times since, so what I could and couldn’t do depended on the house rules and what they happened to have around. When I was around eight or nine, I lived with a family that had older kids—teenagers, so they didn’t have many children’s books or things around. And they didn’t want me to join them in playing video games either, because they said I’d fuck up their high score. So I sneaked on their system one night, but I accidentally erased the save file. I think that was when they arranged for me to be transferred somewhere else.”

                        Graves gives a small snort. “All that for a video game? I’ve never seen the appeal of those things. The rewards are purely virtual.”

                        “They seem fun, but I don’t click very well with technology.” As evidenced by his mistake in forwarding Graves’ message to the wrong person.

                        “Were the other homes any fun?”

                        Before he can control himself, Credence lets out a small huff of laughter. He tries to turn it into a cough, but Graves has already picked up on it. “I guess not, huh?”

                        “Hardly.” His mind drifts to his previous foster home, of being an outcast within a group of social outcasts, and he quickly tries to change the subject. "This might be the best home I’ve lived in, though. The parents are very relaxed and I feel like Modesty is practically my younger sister.”

                        “She must be nice if you consider her your younger sister.” Graves turns the wheel slightly to avoid a car heading in the opposite direction. “My family story isn’t as colourful as yours. Two parents, two younger sisters. I get along better with the youngest one. I’m trying to get her into reading from a young age. Maybe she’ll take after her dashing older brother and take up debate in high school.”

                        “You really are a dashing older brother,” Credence says without thinking. Then he claps a hand over his mouth and stares fixedly at the side door, avoiding Graves’ eyes. _Not again!_

A sudden pressure on his free hand makes him look up, and his insides turn to mush. Graves has taken one hand off the steering wheel and is resting it lightly over Credence’s. His fingers are slowly, carefully working their way through the gaps in Credence’s fingers “Glad you think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The grey whale thing is legit. I read about it long ago in the context of "the ultimate level of friendzone" or something like that but I forgot the species of animal, so it took a lot of googling "friendzone", "animal mating" and all sorts of bizarre search terms before i remembered it was an aquatic animal, and finally narrowed it down to the grey whale. Link: https://afewwordseveryday.wordpress.com/2013/03/17/067-facts-about-the-grey-whale/


	3. Chapter 3

                        The rest of the drive is spent in silence, but not an awkward one. Credence lets his fingers curl around Graves’, and he is glad for this simple point of contact. Whatever happens later, at least he got to hold hands with Graves. His mind is blissfully blank and he only notices that the scenery has given way from mountains bracketing the highway they were travelling on to a wide-open expanse of sky when the car pulls to a stop and Graves untangles his hand. “We’re here. You should put on your coat. It’s cold outside.”

                        Credence pulls on his coat, trying not to stare openly as he watches Graves put on his own coat and arrange the scarf around his neck. When they step out of the car, the cold air makes him shiver, and he can smell a hint of salt in the air, and hear the gentle lapping of waves. They must be at the lookout point of the cliff. “Why isn’t anyone else here? I thought more people would be interested in a meteor shower.”

                        “There’s actually a lookout point in town, but it’s more of a spot to make out than anything. Lots of cars and hormonal teenagers. Light pollution. We wouldn’t be able to see anything.”

                        Credence looks up sharply at the mention of making out. Graves is smiling benignly at him, and he wonders if Graves said that intentionally. _Instincts_ , his brain reminds him, and before he can overthink things, he strides up to Graves and firmly presses his lips against the latter, one hand curving across Graves’ shoulders. He doesn’t have experience with this sort of thing, so he’s unsure if he’s even doing it right, but miraculously, Graves is kissing him back, tilting his face to match the angle, his lips soft and pliant and a complete opposite of the usual unyielding image he projects. One of Graves’ hands reaches up to cup Credence’s cheek, and even though they cannot possibly be any closer physically, he feels like he could melt into the touch. For a moment, he wonders how many people Graves has done this with, but instead of making him feel jealous or inadequate, it just makes him more determined to leave his mark. The hand that isn’t around Graves’ shoulder scrabbles to find purchase in Graves’ short, slicked-back hair, tugging at it in the process, and when Graves hisses, his lips parting slightly, Credence grows bolder and lets his tongue slide into Graves’ open mouth. Judging by the soft but firm sounds that rumble from Graves’ throat, he’s doing something right. Credence is just beginning to congratulate himself on following his instincts when he feels a hand on his chest and he’s pushed back.

                        “Maybe we should set up before we continue this.” Apart from his scarf sitting slightly askew, Graves doesn’t even look ruffled. How is this fair? Credence can feel his own breaths coming out faster and heavier than usual, and he can’t stop staring at Graves’ lips, which have a beautiful, kissed look. _I did that_ , he thinks, and feels slightly giddy at the thought that they’ve gone from simple hand-holding to kissing in seemingly no time at all. Then he remembers Graves’ words. “What do we need to set up?”

                        “I prepared a mat to spread out on the ground, unless you prefer to sit on the grass. It’s in the trunk, along with a surprise.”

                        “Oh…Right…” Credence tears his gaze away from Graves’ lips and tries futilely to open the trunk, but it won’t budge. He’s about to tell Graves there’s something wrong with the car when there is a small click, and he realises that Graves hasn’t even unlocked it yet. He swivels around to glare at Graves for watching him make a fool of himself and not doing anything about it, but finds himself entranced by the half-smile on Graves’ lips, and the way his eyes crinkle up in the corners. _Set up. Then make out._

The surprise turns out to be bottles of alcohol—to keep them warm, Graves says. Credence isn’t stupid, he might have spent the last few years living in what was effectively a vacuum but he knows alcohol does more than keep people warm. For all his intelligence and kindness towards his younger sister, Graves is just another teenager tempted by the illicit nature of the drink. “How did you get these?”

                        “Magic.” Graves smiles and pops open a bottle. “You’ll figure it out. We all have a little magic in us.”

                        Credence rolls his eyes. “You haven’t started drinking, and you’re already saying weird things.”

                        “I always say weird things. It comes with being a debater—we’re supposed to convince you that our weird way of looking at things is _the_ correct way of looking at things.”

                        “That sounds a little like trying to convince a non-believer to go to church.” Credence grabs for the bottle and takes a swig. The bitter edge to the drink is unexpected, but it does provide a rush of heat going down his throat. He makes to pass it back to Graves, but instead of reaching for the bottle, Graves is looking at him, his head tilted slightly. “What?”

                        “That’s one way of looking at it, yes. Do you go to church?”

                        Credence changes his mind about passing the bottle to Graves. He takes another huge gulp from it before answering. “Used to.”

                        “Why did you stop?”

                        “Because I moved here, and my new family doesn’t go to church, so I don’t have to.”

                        “Belief in a religion should be a personal choice, not influenced by what others around you choose to do.”

                        “Sure as hell wasn’t like that with her,” he mutters, then realises too late that he has spoken aloud and Graves is frowning slightly. He tilts the bottle to his mouth just for something to do with his hands.

                        “Who’s ‘her’?”

                        “Nobody important.” Credence _really_ doesn’t want to talk about this. Even Newt doesn’t know anything about life with his previous foster mother, beyond the fact that he had moved here from a smaller town.

                        “You’ve polished off more than half the bottle just talking about church.” Graves leans over and plucks the bottle from his hand, and when Credence tries to take it back from him, his hands feel weighted down and he only manages an uncoordinated swipe. “I’m not going to abet your alcoholism. Tell Daddy all about your problems.”

                        “Eww. You’re not my father. If you were, you’d have had me when you were…” How much older is Graves? The part of his brain that handles simple calculations seems to have gone to sleep. “You look really old but I don’t think you can be my father,” he informs Graves. “I don’t have a father.”

                        “So I’ve heard.” Graves’ eyes are twinkling slightly. “Did you not eat anything for dinner? I’ve never seen alcohol take effect quite so fast.”

                        “I ate,” Credence announces. “The food was good. A lot better than the stuff at Ma’s house. But I guess that’s because I can’t cook for shit and she made me do most of the cooking?” A small part of his brain realises that he seems to be having even more trouble than usual controlling his words, which isn’t good when he normally has enough trouble preventing himself from blurting out what’s on his mind. “I don’t mean to talk your ear off. Tell me about yourself. Or would you rather we kiss? I really like kissing you.”

                        “I really like kissing you, too.” Graves sets the bottle down on the edge of the mat—too far for Credence to reach in his current state, he notes regretfully—and leans forward to brush a finger against Credence’s lips. “But I think you’ve had enough to drink for now. Maybe we can talk and get to know each other better. We still have some time before the meteor shower is set to begin.”

                        “I wanna know more about you,” Credence says. “I’ve been talking too much. It’s not fair.”

                        “You’re right.” Graves shrugs and rummages through the plastic bag for his own bottle. “What do you want to know?”

                        The conversation continues from there. Graves lets Credence know about how he and Theseus became friends, his friendship-slash-rivalry with Seraphina, whom he sometimes worries about because she’s aiming for an Ivy League college and spends too much time studying, and his desire to become a federal detective in order to solve crimes. Seraphina is thinking of becoming a prosecutor, which complements his detective aspirations and would allow them to continue working together after graduation, but he feels she has the potential to go even further than that, perhaps even aim for political office someday. All this talk about careers and the future makes Credence realise just how far behind he is compared to everyone else, even though these people are only three years older (he finally worked out the age difference! Take _that_ , stupid brain!). He doesn’t have any hobbies or interests in particular, unlike Newt, whose burning passion for animals will probably translate into a career in zoology. His results aren’t outstanding, since moving from home to home often meant changing schools and none of the subjects interest him very much. Graves notices his silence and asks him about it, then offers to test if he has the ability to become a debater, since that requires lots of critical thinking and research skills. It quickly becomes obvious that Credence isn’t the argumentative sort, so Graves moves on to talking about crime novels that he likes to read—apparently he likes to see if he can solve the crimes ahead of the characters—and concocts some hypothetical scenarios for Credence to solve. But somewhere in between explaining how the angle of entry of a bullet affects blood spatter and the effect a pistol’s recoil has on the shooter themselves, they end up kissing passionately, the hand that Graves was using to demonstrate recoil effect sliding beneath Credence’s shirt and leaving a trail hotter than the burn of alcohol in its wake. In his haste to reciprocate, Credence accidentally bites Graves’ tongue, which sadly puts a temporary halt to the kissing and starts the vampire jokes. They end up leaning against each other, drinking from the same bottle and watching as the stars start to fall. Watching the stars arc across the dark blue sky, seemingly on a suicide plunge towards the ocean and basking in Graves’ warm, comforting presence, Credence finds himself thinking that magic might just be able to work its way beyond the realm of fairy tales into real life.

* * *

 

                        Credence is awoken by chirping noises. The birds appear to be having some sort of competition to see who can irritate the hell out of him this early in the morning; which is a little strange because they’ve never been this loud before, and things are made worse by the pain that throbs in his head. He slowly opens his eyes and instead of facing a ceiling or wall, he’s looking at Graves. More specifically, at the white shirt Graves is wearing under his coat. His own hands are clutching at Graves’ coat, and the softness of the fabric is a soothing contrast to the pounding in both his head and behind his eyes. He tries to move, but realises he can’t because Graves’ arms are framing him, pulling him against Graves’ chest. _Oh my God._ They’re cuddled up together!

                        Graves mumbles something and shifts a little. Credence doesn’t want to wake him, but his coat pocket is vibrating and he realises it might be a phone call. By the time he manages to disentangle himself, the phone has stopped vibrating, revealing an entire log of missed calls from Diane and messages starting from around 12am.

                        _Credence its 12 where r u_

_We need to set a curfew from now on_

_R u ok? Call me back_

_Call me as soon as u see this_

_Im getting really worried please answer_

_Did u really just spend the night out without telling me?_

_Im driving down to school if u don’t call me back by 7.30_

                        Oh, shit. Credence has completely forgotten about school. In the ecstasy of going out with Graves, he had completely forgotten that the date was on a Tuesday night, meaning that they still had to show up for classes on Wednesday. His phone display reads 7.15a.m. There is no way they can make it to school on time, even if Graves drives at breakneck speed the whole way. Maybe Graves had planned to skip school all along. Credence doesn’t think he’s in any condition to go for classes, but he pictures Diane at his school, frantically asking random students if they have seen him, and guilt lances through him. There will probably be Consequences, just like in the past, but he’ll grit his teeth and bear it. He slowly eases himself off the mat and staggers to the car, not wanting Graves to hear this conversation.

                        Diane answers on the first ring, and he is prepared to deal with her anger, but not her tears. In between her shuddering gasps of how she thought he had been _kidnapped_ or _shot dead_ , he manages to explain that he hadn’t looked at his phone all night, unused to the idea of checking in with someone, but he’s really sorry for making her worry.

                        “You’re not staying out all night again,” she snaps. “I should have set a curfew from the start, but you’ve never stayed out this late with Newt before. You _never_ stay out with Newt. I don’t care if you get a boyfriend, but we need to set some rules, and I expect you to follow them.”

                        “I will. I’m sorry.” And he _is_ sorry. Not just in the perfunctory, almost reflexive way he apologised in the past in hopes of getting a lighter punishment, but a guilt that almost seems to weigh down on him, making him curl in on himself. In all these years, he has never grown attached to any of the families he has lived with, but these two short months with Diane and her family have given him a sense of belonging that he never knew was missing. He doesn’t want to disappoint her.

                        Her tone softens. “I just want you to know that I care about you. I would have been equally worried if Modesty had stayed out the whole night without any news. Get to school and come straight home afterwards. You’re grounded until further notice.”

                        “Okay.”

                        With a heavy heart, Credence goes to rouse Graves. He looks as bad as Credence feels, and when Credence begs him to drive them to school so they can at least attend some classes, he snorts. “Do I look capable of sitting through a day of classroom and cafeteria chatter? My head feels like it’s about to explode, and it’s relatively quiet here.”

                        “I know, but… I promised I’d go to school… Please drop me there and you can go home and sleep it off.”

                        Graves heaves a long-suffering sigh. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d go back to sleep right now.”

                        Credence feels something funny bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. “You love me?”

                        “Not if you keep asking me for ridiculous favours. Get in the car before I change my mind.”

                        With more strength than he believed himself capable of, considering his monster hangover, Credence pulls Graves to his feet and kisses him hard. New town, new life, new boyfriend. Everything is going to be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for putting up with my shitposting;;;


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